Never Regret
by Niyari
Summary: What would you do to get back, that which makes you who you are?
1. My Wish

**Chapter One**

* * *

He was more mature now. Being in love, out of love, hurt and put upon, happy and sad had taught him that much. A level of responsibility. 

It wasn't supposed to make him cold or uncaring about the one thing… one person… that had taught him. Maybe he'd learned from the best.

It was raining outside. Crunchy leaves from the autumn season were turning into mushy, soggy piles. There was no joy in the air. Maybe goodbyes were made for days like these. It was the end of November. He'd slept in that day, and awoken to an empty bed beside him. The house was cold, freezing really and he wrapped a blanket around himself to ward off the nip.

It was also silent. No television buzz, no kitchen utensil clack or coffee grinder scrape. No computer key snap. There wasn't even an eerie feel to the silence. It was flat.

"I'm leaving."

He jumped at the unexpected sound, and the gruff appeal to the voice. He turned around to face his lover and narrowed his eyes.

"You always seem to be leaving."

"I mean it this time."

He shrugged. "Fine. I'm sick of chasing after you anyway."

There was a pause of shock. He was supposed to keep him there. To say something, anything at all. He wasn't supposed to give up. Not that easily.

"Good to know." He pushed past him to grab a coat, his wallet and his keys. "The apartment is yours, if you want it. Sell it if you don't."

"Kay."

"Good Luck you damn brat."

They were back to nothing again.

From the window sill, where drops of rain were streaking and blurring his vision, he watched the man he'd once clung to place his things in the trunk of a car and drive away.

"Good bye Yuki."

He turned away from the window and stared around the cold apartment, watching the shadows on the walls. Then he fumbled with the thermostat and turned up the heat.

"Could have at least turned the heat on when you woke up bastard."

Shuichi flopped on the couch and thought. With nothing to really care about, he just sat there, watching the rain fall down and feeling his denial about a broken heart.

His heart wasn't supposed break anymore.

_Six months later…_

"May first! Pay day!" Shuichi jumped onto Hiro's back and clung to his shoulders fiercely. Sakano handed each of Bad Luck's members an envelope with a check inside and Shuichi launched off his friends back and into a chair. As he did the cabbage patch and sang a song about money, Hiro shook his head and laughed.

"One would almost think you were broke, instead of a multi-million dollar, platinum album, hot-shot."

"Can you blame me? I love going shopping for new clothes every first of the month!"

"And I love to buy food."

Shuichi stuck his tongue out. "I _eat_, just not the hoity-toity expensive crap that you buy." He stood and mimicked a fancy waiter with a funny accent. "You're caviar, young master?"

Hiro blanched. "I don't eat caviar."

"While this is all very fascinating… we happen to have a visitor." Suguru hissed beside them. "Shut your traps."

Shuichi spun around and faced the door. Standing with a smile on his face, Tohma Seguchi stared at them all.

"Who eats caviar?"

"Oh, just a joke Mr. President." Shuichi said, waving a hand up and down. "Pay day jokes, you know." And he laughed as though it was really funny.

"I see." Tohma straightened his jacket slightly and smiled again. "Well, have a nice weekend everybody. But, Mr. Shindo, I'd see you for a moment before you head… home."

"Sure!"

Hiro and Suguru left, Hiro giving Shuichi a smack on his way out. As the singer followed his boss, he felt the smile drop off his face and a scarily calm demeanor take place of his hyper attitude. The instant the office door shut behind them, Tohma even lost his hospitality.

"What now?" Shuichi asked, standing with his arms crossed in a corner

"Eiri has contacted me again."

"So?"

"He wants to communicate with you."

Shuichi narrowed his eyes and sighed. "Why?"

"He said he missed you."

"That's Yuki code for 'I'm horny, come meet me for one night because whores don't fuck me like you.' I'm not talking to him."

"Shuichi… he was crying."

That stung.

"And you're telling me all this for him because you want what he wants, am I right?" Shuichi chuckled coldly. "I stopped trusting you with anything but my work life a _very_ long time ago Tohma. I don't see your angle this time, but I'm not connecting with him so I can cry my eyes out and feel broken all over again."

"I'm not saying anything like that. He's doing this through me so he doesn't invade. Would you have preferred he just contacted you?"

"No. I prefer neither."

"Well, he gave me a note to give you. He said he'll understand if you burn it or something."

Shuichi looked up. "Was he here?"

"Yes. This morning."

"Bastard."

Tohma handed him an envelope with a good amount of paper in it. "I didn't read any. Promise."

Shuichi snatched it. "Can I leave now?"

"You're excused. See you on Monday."

Shuichi stomped out of the room. Pay Day mood now ruined, he didn't head for his favorite stores, he went straight home to the apartment he'd inherited six months ago.

Lights on, T.V on, snack in a bowl, and a cozy couch later, he felt good. The weekend ahead of him, and a pay check of half a mill for shopping purposes, his mood had brightened. Then he spotted the envelope on the seat next to him, where he'd thrown it.

Something inside him said he should read it, a common courtesy, even if the bastard deserved no such thing. But another part of him wanted to burn like Tohma had mentioned.

As he picked it up, he felt the weight and realized there must be a lot written. Perhaps a collection of things he wanted to tell him. His curiosity peaked suddenly.

He plucked at it.

And then he threw it at the table. "Son of a bitch." He murmured, cursing Yuki's name. The envelope stared at him face down. Shuichi stared back at it, feeling his eyelid's prick uncomfortably with tears. Placing his hands over his mouth and nose to stifle the feeling, he smelt the stale smoke and after-shave that was undeniably Yuki on his hands. The scent made him cry harder. Made it worse.

"Son of a _bitch_!" He cursed again, tears numbing his cheeks as he spoke. The envelope was still staring, mocking his weakness, and Shuichi felt hopeless, helpless.

He almost had to read it now.

The envelope practically peeled itself open as he fingered the sticky edge. Papers were spilling out as he opened them. Fat lots of them. All dated from even the first day Yuki had left, up until the day before. Shuichi read them in order. It was like a diary. But it was random, and jumbled with so many thoughts and emotions, you couldn't really tell what Yuki had been thinking as he was writing. Except that he was sad. Very, very sad.

Shuichi cried through the whole hour he'd sat there reading. Everything made sense now, the breakup, and the reasons why. But it made him all so mad!

The last one seemed the most sensible. It began with a tear drop dried to the top of the page.

_Dear Shuichi, _

I hope that the days come easy and the moments pass slow, and each road leads you where you want to go. And if you're faced with a choice, and you have to choose I hope you choose the one that means the most to you. And if one door opens to another door closed, I hope you keep on walking till you find the window.

_  
If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile. _

But more than anything, more than anything…  
My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to.  
Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small, and you never need to carry more than you can hold. And while you're out there getting where you're getting to, I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too. Yeah, this is my wish.

I hope you never look back, but you never forget, all the ones who love you, in the place you left. I hope you always forgive, and you never regret, and you help somebody every chance you get.

_  
This is my wish  
I hope you know somebody loves you. _

_-Yuki_

It ended with the scrawl of Yuki's signature. And another few tear drops smearing it across the bottom.

Shuichi stood, letting the paper flutter to a stop against the coffee table. Inside the kitchen, the noise of buttons being pressed could be heard. And then a tentative voice began…

"Tohma? I'm ready to talk with him now…"

**End-1

* * *

**

This is my second fanfiction here, I hope you enjoyed it. It can take me some time to update, and if you get impatient, feel free to send me a message encouraging me to keep going. For thsoe who didn't know, the letter from Yuki is acctually comprised of song lyrics. It's a wonderful song that fits well with this story. I may add lyrics into other chapters. Mostly as letters from Yuki, or song lyrics from Shuichi. Please let me know what you thought.

Ja ne!


	2. Whipped Cream Mystery

**Chapter 2

* * *

**

"What if he doesn't show?"

"He'll come."

"But what if he doesn't?"

"Then we assume he had something to do and that he will schedule another day to talk with you."

Shuichi was about to ask another question, when a look from his boss silenced him. Instead of speaking, he stirred the whipped cream topping into a Hot Chocolate he'd ordered, watching the foamy sweetness dissolve. He ate a little off the tip of his spoon at glanced repeatedly at the clock on the wall above him. Each second was a year to him. When would Yuki get here? When would Tohma leave? Where the hell was the bathroom?

"Tohma, I gotta go."

"If you'll hold on just one second, I'm sure Eiri will be here soon."

"No. I mean I've gotta _go_." He half stood, doing a little wiggle dance as he moved. "Where' the bathroom?"

"Oh." Tohma held in a polite snicker. "By the bar, to your left."

Shuichi shot off.

In the bathroom (while relieving himself) Shuichi thought and he thought hard. An unusual circumstance for him. They were supposed to have met Eiri here, at precisely ten a.m. It was now… five past ten. Okay. Maybe he was stressing to much. But Yuki was usually very punctual, or fashionably late. Today he must be going for the latter. This meant Shuichi had at least two to five more minutes until Yuki arrived.

Pleased with his thought process, Shuichi washed his hands and raced back out to see Tohma, and more importantly get a new batch of whipped cream for his Hot Chocolate.

He almost turned and ran right back into the bathroom.

Standing near the table, Yuki was talking quietly to his brother-in-law. Shuichi saw the tall form, blond hair, and somehow he felt shocked and mad, but excited at this chance. In compromise for mixed feelings of either running away, or running forward, he stood stock still and watched in fear as Tohma pointed towards him, and Yuki turned around, smirking like the naturally cocky man he was.

"Hey." He said, the deep rivets of his voice tuning Shuichi's memories. He felt like crying, dying, or just falling back into Yuki's arms.

He somehow managed to act normal.

"Hey." Shuichi replied, stepping forward shakily. Yuki held out a hand to shake, and for a moment Shuichi wanted to hit him. Only a handshake? But he took it, and shook it, and sat down beside his cooling cocoa.

Tohma was smiling nicely at his brother-in-law and employee, obviously trying to lighten the tense mood. Then Yuki gave him a look that spoke volumes on Tohma's "not being welcomed into this conversation" and Tohma Seguchi obediently cleared his throat and stood.

"I suppose I'll take my leave. I'll see you Monday Mr. Shindo."

Shuichi nodded and smiled as he left. Then Yuki sat down across from him, in the space Tohma had left occupied. There was tense silence. Shuichi laughed nervously. "How ya been Yuki?"

The writers face paled suddenly, as though the long forgotten voice scared him somehow. "Fine." He replied. "How about you?"

"Great!" Shuichi lied. There was another deep silence, broken only by a waitress, coming to take Yuki's order.

"Coffee. Black." He said.

"Anything else for you, hun?" The waitress turned to Shuichi, snapping the gum in her mouth as she smiled at him.

"More whipped cream please! Don't you want anything to eat?" he asked Yuki. The author shrugged. "_Did _you eat?"

A pointed glance. That would be a no.

"Some pancakes too please."

"Of course." She bustled away to give out the order.

"I hope you know I plan on not even _touching_ those pancakes." Yuki said.

"I hope you know I plan to change your plan about not touching those pancakes." Shuichi retorted. He got a small smile out of that one.

They chatted for a while, ice broken by Shuichi's pancake banter, waiting for the order to come. Just as the waitress was setting up the pancakes and pouring Yuki's coffee, Shuichi pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket. A fresh Cocoa found its way in front of the hyper teen, followed by an extra bowl full of whipped cream for him to eat on the side.

Yuki eyed the envelope, holding his comments until the waitress bustled away again. His face seemed to get even paler. "Why'd you have to bring that?" He asked quietly. Shuichi was shocked at the emotion, and the quiet weakness in his voice.

"I want to talk with you about it."

"What for?"

"You wrote some things… I want to understand them. I want to understand all of it."

Yuki sighed, looked away. "You always want to know everything."

Shuichi stared at him, incredulous. "I'm sorry if I care."

"Ah. So you do care." Yuki smirked. "You didn't care very much six months ago."

Shuichi glared. "That's unfair. It was a long time ago. And you didn't help matters much." Yuki sat back, reaching an arm around the top of the booth. He leaned his head to one-side, laying it against the window. He smiled.

"I'm sorry."

Shuichi's eyes went wide. Yuki never said sorry. Or at least he never meant it. The certainty and sincerity in his gaze and his grin made Shuichi feel warm and forgiving. But his thought process snapped suddenly as his memories went hay-wire. _He left you for six months and didn't even look back once._

"What happened to you Yuki?"

"Nothing." Replied the author. Shuichi narrowed his gaze. He was being _way_ to nice.

_Don't fall for it. _

_Don't ever fall for it again. _

Shuichi had told himself that the day Yuki had left. The day he'd tried to forget so badly. A bubble of rage seethed in his stomach.

"What was that?" Yuki asked. Shuichi glared at him, realizing that he must have spoken out loud.

"I said I won't fall for it!"

"For what?"

"You're fucked up mind games, you sick bastard!" Shuichi shoved his spoon violently into his cup, cocoa sloshing over the side with a loud ceramic chink. Yuki looked mildly surprised.

"Shuichi… what are you--?" He was cut off by a glare.

"Don't you dare." Shuichi began in a low whisper. "Don't you even dare think to turn your charms on me. I won't fall for it again. You were gone for six months. Six _fucking_ months, and you never said a word to me. Until now. I don't know what you're playing at and I don't presume to find out through another heartbreak episode." He scooped a load of whipped cream into his mouth. "Leave." He said thickly.

Yuki nodded tensely, eyes wide with his natural icy emotion. "Fine. Damn brat." As he gathered his jacket and paid the bill with a fifty, he looked down upon his ex-lover with something close to confusion in his eyes.

He reached forward, wiping a spot of whipped cream from Shuichi's cheek and he smiled sadly. "I miss you Shuichi. Believe it or not. I miss you." And he licked the cream from his fingers.

A bell tinkled seconds after. He was gone.

**End- 2**


	3. Gears

**Chapter Three

* * *

**

He leaned back in a giant office chair, a chuckle, soft and light, his smile leaning into the phone as he said "Of course. It will be taken care of." The voice was soft and calm. He hummed into the phone as a few minutes of silence passed on his end.

"I'll do what I can. I assure you, he will be…_ motivated_… to do as we ask. Yes. Thank you for your time." The phone made a click as he placed it upon the receiver with a satisfied smirk. Thoughts wandering, he began to fiddle mindlessly with his gloves.

"Hmm. Motivatedindeed." And he laughed again.

* * *

Shuichi swiveled a pocky stick from one side of his mouth to the other. He was slumped with his legs crossed on the floor, a phone crooked between his shoulder and jaw. He sucked on the strawberry coating and sighed. "Well, exactly Hiro. It just wasn't like him at all."

"I don't know Shu, people _do change_. Ya know?"

Shuichi made a sour face. "Not him. I lived around him for three years, nothing changed. Except the fact that he wanted to leave so badly."

"Maybe that's just it. He needed a way out."

"Why?"

Hiro sighed, and paused. The hesitance scared Shuichi for a moment. Did Hiro know something he didn't about Yuki? "Shu, you are my best friend. I mean that, you know I do. But what I want you to know is that sometimes you are a little over-bearing. You get to into people when they'd just rather have a moment alone." Hiro sighed again; Shuichi could just picture him running a hand through the long red hair. "You get me Shuichi?"

"Ya… I guess I understand it now…" There was no doubt now that he was thinking of it. Shuichi saw in hind-sight, that he was a little bit poke-ish and pry-ish about other people's business. Especially Yuki's.

Always right there. By your side. A faithful puppy.

Ick. He didn't want to be faithful anything. The image of himself pining uselessly at anybody's side made Shuichi feel nauseous. He shoved the thought from his mind and went limp, lying on the floor like a sack of potatoes. He crunched on the pocky and sighed.

"Shuichi…"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you were being a little harsh?"

Shuichi stared at the ceiling with a hard pound thudding against his chest. "No, I really don't Hiro."

His best friend paused and Shuichi could swear he heard the guitarist sigh with exasperation. "I gotta go Shu. See you Monday."

"Yeah. Bye Hiro."

The phones clicked off simultaneously. Shuichi laid the phone next to him and continued to stare at the ceiling. His heart slowed down again, but his mind was racing.

After a while he stood and shuffled away to bed.

Meanwhile, Hiro set his phone upon the receiver. Without turning, or even removing a finger from the handset, he shook his head. "I tried."

"That's all I could ask of you."

"Don't you think your going to end up hurting him? In the long run I mean?" Hiro turned to face his guest, accusation turning his gaze hard. "Maybe you left for a reason. Maybe you're _separated_ for a reason."

"Weren't you the one who told me, if I ever made him cry for something other than his own stupidity, you'd come back for me? To hurt me."

"Yes." Hiro replied warily, unsure of the reason for this conversation.

The taller man retreated from the living room, grabbing his coat and keys. "When you left on that motorcycle of yours, I replied."

"Oh? What did you say?"

"Shouldn't grind it in gear like that."

And he left.

Hiro stood in the middle of the room, staring at where his best friend's captor had been moments before, listening as the door snapped closed with finality.

That statement had more meaning than just reference to motorcycles and gears. Because even though Hiro could distinctly remember grinding his motor that night, (for emphasis of Eiri's dangerous situation, had Hiro ever needed to come back and fulfill his threat) he also believed that the stoic author had put deeper meaning into the phrase. It wasn't meant as a criticism. It was meant as a metaphor.

Nobody was going to tell Eiri Yuki what to do. Hiro, being the second gear, wasn't aloud to interfere. Second gear shouldn't have been on that night, in Eiri's eyes. It didn't make total sense, but then again this man was poetical. Even when he didn't mean to be.

Eiri had been telling him to stay out of it. He'd been telling him to let Shuichi fight his own battles. But Hiro sat and sighed, thinking bitterly to himself, about just how much he was willing to head the man's warning.

Shuichi wasn't ready to win this war.

And Hiro wouldn't let him fight this battle.

**End-3**


	4. The Biggest Mistake of Your Life

**Chapter Four

* * *

**

Tohma was never really one to tell you his most…personal issues. He kept his private life extraordinarily secret, despite fame and numerous paparazzi butting into his life. He hardly ever got himself into untimely or distasteful situations. He did not _ever _gain a bad reputation. His reputation was known for not being messed with.

Mess with him, he'll mess with you. And win.

His multi-million dollar corporation for talent: NG Studios, his multiple platinum edition records, C-D's, concert tapes, and live video recordings. His kick-ass estate on the edge of Tokyo (which screamed security) and his cool temper, calm demeanor, and scarily truthful and angelic smile always seemed to bring him everything. A sense of demanded respect that spoke volumes. You didn't disrespect him directly. And the last idiot, who tried to manipulate Tohma's power in their interests, got pushed in front of a moving car.

Taki Aizawa was fine. Are you kidding me? Seguchi wasn't a murderer… at least not yet.

But all this would make most corporate suits tremble. All this would make every grown man eerily meek. All this _should_ make a hyperactive pink-haired teenage rock star fawn in admiration and go rigid at just the mention of Tohma Seguchi's name.

But…no. It just made the idiot pissed.

The oak doors slammed into their adjacent walls revealing the aura that was Shindo. His hair was flapping into his eyes, the purple color flashing dangerously. He lent against the door, panting in a split second of vulnerability, but popped back up again with all the bitterness and anger clearly visible in his unbending posture and stiff steps. He held a small envelope in his hands and as he walked, he fiddled with it, twirling it between his fingers, creasing the edges in his vain attempt to slowly wear it down to dust. Shuichi smiled as he slammed the parcel and its contents down with a large smack on Tohma desk. He smiled even wider when Tohma jumped with bewilderment.

"You, Tohma Seguchi, have fucked with me for the last time."

Silence. A chilled response.

"For years you've toyed with my mind and heart and played me like a puppet on strings. Countless times I trusted my whole life to you, my job, my love, my personal aspects, even the interest of my money. And you, sir, have fucked it all up good. You have twirled Yuki around your little finger, and even though he has you by the heart-strings, you mess with his relationships."

"Mr. Shindo…"

Not to be deterred, Shuichi waved him off and continued ranting. "You have made sure, personally, that he always had the best. In return, for being his _fucking lover_, my whole future was served to me on a silver platter. I didn't want it like that!"

"Mr. Shindo…"

"I wanted my own life to work out. If music hadn't done the trick, I'd find other ways. But you… you! This is it. My last string of tolerance has been breached."

"Mr. Shindo…"

"What?" Shuichi snapped, flinging his head to the side with a sharp motion.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

... Oh.

He was in for it.

Shuichi's purple eyes almost melded themselves into a deep and vibrant plum color. They widened, flashed, and seemed to lock onto Tohma's own teal gems like targets. They had a silent staring match, and the whole world… no, the universe, stopped breathing as Shuichi Shindo (probably the biggest teenage moron that ever lived) did the unthinkable.

He slapped Tohma Seguchi, right across the cheek.

The President took it rather well at first. His face was naturally turned to one side, the impact leaving a slowly darkening red mark across his porcelain face. He didn't move. Nor speak. He almost seemed to freeze, whether in disbelief or in anger… had yet to be decided.

"Stay out of it." Shuichi whispered dangerously.

He turned to go, leaving the envelope purposely behind for Tohma to find and read. As he placed his palm upon the handle of the door, his name was called, so quietly he almost didn't catch it.

"Mr. Shindo."

Shuichi turned, stared, trembled. Tohma was standing now, right over the desk, hunched forward with his face cast in shadow. The mark on his face was outlined with Shuichi's hand print. With the small and saintly smile that haunted Taki Aizawa's dreams, he spoke in the same bare whisper.

"Have a nice day."

**End-1**

A/N: Why is Shuichi so mad. Stick around to find out! Sorry about the long wait, stuff just happens ya know? Anyway, please let me know what you think.


	5. Of Envelopes and Meeting:: Part I

**Chapter Five

* * *

**

Eiri sat alone with a beer can in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He stared blankly at his beloved laptop, the haunting blue color flashing into his eyes, the cigarette ash starting to drop from the tip of the stick, and fall onto the floor, until it smoldered and went out on the hardwood flooring.

This was him single.

This was him missing Shuichi.

Behind the glasses he only wore to write, read, or look fashionable and sophisticated in, his eyes seemed to water in the fluorescent light of his computer. He was watching the words he had printed over and over. Same sentence, hundreds of times, for exactly one hundred pages.

_I miss him._

_I miss him._

_I miss him._

_I miss him. _

Yuki slammed the laptop shut. "This is ridiculous."

His feet found the floor, his floor lead him to the bedroom, his bedroom held the shower. He took a long one. A very long one. With three days of soil to wash away… Oh yeah, long shower. He lathered, rinsed, (repeated) almost three times, sat under the steam until his skin felt wrinkled, and let the water slowly hiss away.

In the bathroom, he silently dried off his body and hair, he took a razor to his face and shaved the slowly protruding stubble from his chin and cheeks, and he brushed his teeth four times. Yes, four. He took gel and styled the blond hair from his face, took cologne and peppered his skin with it.

To the closet, a clean suit. Crisp nylon black pants, ironed blue shirt, black smoking jacket, leather shoes (polished), keys, coat, car.

_Ring_.

Damn it. Phone.

"Hello?" He said gruffly, frowning at Tohma's number showing up on his Caller ID.

"Eiri. Good of you to answer."

Yuki shoved his keys into the ignition of his car. "What the hell do you want?"

"Just a moment of your time. Would you come down to my office?"

Sigh. "Now?"

"Now." The finality in his voice made Yuki dart his eyes around suspiciously.

"What the hell is this about?" He revved the engine to life and pulled back out of the garage. Tohma's silent pause on the other end made a prickly edge of perspiration form on his neck.

"Will you just come down?"

"I'm kinda on my way somewhere." Yuki replied, unwilling to let the desperation show in his voice.

"To see your ex?"

Yuki's eyes widened.

"This concerns him. Get in here." The phone clicked, and the line died.

Yuki flipped his phone shut, set it next to him on the seat, and stared at the red light above him. Tohma Seguchi, making absolute demands, and usually when Yuki said "no, I don't feel like it", the authority was never questioned. This had to be pretty damn serious for that attitude to come through Tohma and into him.

"Better be fucking good Seguchi."

* * *

The building was almost entirely empty, save for a few late workers with little to no home to return to. Most of the lights had shut off, most of the halls were deserted, and only silence remained to make up for sound. As much as Yuki hated coming here during the day, when musicians were belting it with all they had and giving him a headache, NG was much worse at night.

The elevator's annoying 'bing' was loud in the echoing marble, and glass building. Yuki stepped inside and pushed the button, taking him to the top floor. Elevator music played with the incandescent hum of the lamp for background noise. He tapped his fingers against the hardwood of his surroundings, watched the little light switch from three, to four, to five, and up.

Bing.

Striding into the president's well decorated private floor, (with the office most musicians feared going into) he stepped forward, made his way up the carpeted hall, and suddenly found that he heard yelling on the other side of the polished oak and brass doors.

"…Last string of tolerance has been breached." Suddenly it stopped, and then there was a murmur of normal conversation. And then a deep pause of silence. Soon after… a sound, something close to the clamor of a smack. The unmistakable din of skin to skin contact. More silence, maybe punctuated by footsteps. A recovering murmur of single sentence speech, and then…

BANG!

The doors opened up and out popped Shuichi Shindo, fully shaken and wide eyed.

At first, Yuki thought about smiling and saying hi, but a second thought stopped him. How out of character would that make him seem? He noticed, too, that the small teen was thoroughly frightened about something. A smile and simple indifferent hello would probably make him cry. That was the last thing either of them really needed at the moment.

"Shuichi." He said quietly.

"Yuki." The boy's voice broke.

"How… are you?"

"Miserable." He replied, and he walked away towards the elevator.

Yuki didn't have the courage to follow.

Instead he turned and glared at the solemn doors, at the man sitting behind them, at the curse that was certainly his life. He glared hard, wanting nothing more than to ignore the demands for submission, the request for his presence in that room. He wanted to leave… just to make him mad.

But he pressed forward, a drive in curiosity moving him ahead.

"You called?"

"Yes, yes. Come in Eiri."

He did as he was told, shutting the doors behind him, immediately feeling emotions of tension and anxiety flood the air around him. Yuki stepped into the light of a lamp and fumbled with a cigarette and the lighter in his pocket.

"He's out of control, you know."

"Who? Shuichi?"

Tohma sighed. "Yes, that damn brat."

Yuki narrowed his eyes. "Don't call him that."

"Oh yes, I did forget, didn't I? Only_ you,_ are aloud to call him such, isn't that so?" Tohma stood from his desk and came around it, facing his brother-in-law with a fierce stare. "He's gone to far, that kid. I have half a mind to drop his label and force him out."

"Don't you even dare."

"And YOU!" Tohma suddenly cried, throwing his hands into the air. "You! Always wanting what's best for him. Did you know he came into my office just minutes ago, claiming he wanted nothing from me but honesty, especially when it comes to his job?"

"So? He wants his own success."

"Yes, but I only took personal interest and gave him what he has because of you! Don't you see it Eiri, he's tired of being treated like a baby, and your influence doesn't count on his side anymore."

"Drop him then. Plenty of other music labels will clamor for the chance the take him and his buddies up. Any dumb-ass contractor would sign them up in a heart-beat."

Tohma smiled "But I'm not stupid. Dropping them would lose me money."

"Then what the hell do you want from me?"

"Talk to him."

"What?"

Tohma had turned towards his desk, hunched over it really, but his back went rigid and he turned back. "Talk to him! Make it work out!"

Yuki stumbled backwards a few steps. "You… want me back together with him?" He smirked at the irony. "You? Tohma Seguchi. My brother-in-law who wouldn't let anybody touch me with a ten foot pole. You. Who once claimed to hate my Shuichi? You?"

"Yes. Me."

"Why?"

Tohma reached back over his desk and opened a drawer, drawing from it, a parcel with Yuki's name scribbled on it in bold, messy letters.

"Read it."

Yuki took it from the man uneasily. A faint scent of Shuichi seemed to waft from the papers in his hand. He opened it, to find a letter, a single message, a tiny clue. His eyes clouded, though he'd never dare to cry in the presence of his brother-in-law. A large piece of printer paper, word typed in a huge font across it.

"By god, Tohma…"

"Go talk to him."

Yuki looked up and nodded. "Stop butting in. Stop calling all the time. Stop babying me and him. This is our decision."

"Fine. But I get a little vengeance for the bruise he'll most assuredly have given me."

Yuki stared at him. "What?"

Tohma pointed to his face, were a deep red mark was formed. "My cheek. He hit me, and rather hard too…"

For the first time in six months… Yuki laughed.

**End-5**


	6. Of Envelopes and Meeting:: Part II

**Chapter Six

* * *

**

The way out was much easier goings than the way in. Yuki's heart felt lighter, his mind felt at ease. He had a renewed spring in his step… well… maybe that was going a little too far, but he was most assuredly happier than a few hours ago whilst typing on his couch. The elevator wasn't so loud, and it seemed the walk wasn't so looming or full of tall shadows.

His next surprise was hearing the singing.

A recording, no doubt, for a whatever band. But this was no "whatever" band; this was the unmistakable voice of Shuichi Shindo, his Shuichi Shindo.

Almost absently fiddling with the paper from Shuichi's note, almost absently walking toward that soothing voice, almost absently opening the door, watching him sing in the booth, watching his crazy American manager record. It was all almost without conscience and almost without thought. Almost.

"Great Shuichi, that was perfect. We'll just lay it over Nakano and Fujisaki's tape and the song… will be… finished. Shuichi, what are you staring at?"

His features had gone pale, slack, and emotionless. His eyes were wide and vibrant. Yuki could only shake his head to clear the fog and make him self think enough to smirk.

"Can we talk?"

Click. Click. Ding.

"Step away bastard."

Yuki jerked his head to the side only to fell the cold rasp of metal, an instantly recognizable gun barrel pressed against his temple. He took two steps back and looked at Shuichi quickly; he was reaching forward, moving slowly towards K

"Step away Eiri Yuki. You've done enough damage to this boy to last a life time."

"K, listen, can't I just--."

"Shove it ass-hole. Get out."

"K, no." Shuichi suddenly found his voice and took a few more steps forward. "Let me talk with him."

"But Shuichi…"

"Drop the gun."

A few moments of dire tension, a few seconds of hesitation, a single flash of challenge, then the gun drop and K stepped backwards. The look of death was upon his face.

Shuichi stepped out of the booth with Yuki, led him down the hall a bit, and stopped, back turned to his once-upon-a-time beloved boyfriend

"I got your note."

"Figures."

"You didn't want to see me for a while, did you?"

Shuichi shivered. "I didn't think that you'd come so soon, so quickly."

Yuki took a faltering step forward, uncertain of what to say. "Are you okay?" He settled for the familiar sentence, trying to break the strain of alien conversation.

"Great. Fine. Peachy."

"Liar."

Shuichi jolted. "What do you expect?" He sniffled brokenly, hugging his arms to his chest. Yuki reached a quivering hand forward, caught the shoulder, and offered comfort.

Shuichi broke.

"Yuki…" He whispered, turning around. His head lowered, tears dripping to the ground.

Yuki didn't think, did reason, he simply acted. His arms wrapped the boy in a silent and crushing embrace, and he soon found that little arms were returning the favor. In sudden impulses, Yuki found himself burying his nose in Shuichi's hair, rubbing his back, kissing the sides of his head. His little baby… his Shuichi.

"I miss you."

"I… I miss you too."

They hugged. It was a good five minutes before either even thought of breaking apart, a good seven before they started to stir, almost ten before they were completely unwrapped. Shuichi held his forearm in one small hand, staring at the chest of his Yuki. He sniffled a few times.

"I have go tell K I'm done for tonight, let him know you didn't kill me."

"Come home with me." Yuki said suddenly. Shuichi looked at him with a jerk of his head.

"No… Yuki… no. It's too soon."

"Just to talk."

"What if we get…reckless?"

"I won't get reckless."

Shuichi gave him a damp grin. "It's not you I'm worried about." He stumbled off past him, back to his recording studio, back with the crazy American man who loved Shuichi enough to protect the scrawny teen. Yuki thanked the crazy American for that.

A few minutes later, Shuichi reemerged, bowing and apparently thanking K for his protection. Yuki leant against a wall and watched him walk closer.

"Go home Yuki." He said, hugging the man and burying his nose into the black jacket.

"Come with me."

"No."

Yuki took his hand, caressed it with a finger. "Please, I won't let us do anything we'll regret."

"Who's to say what we will and won't regret?"

"Let me be the judge."

There was a long pause, in which Shuichi kept mindlessly kneading the front of Yuki's jacket. He sighed and clutched a handful of fabric, pulled Yuki as close as possible, whispered softly;

"Okay."

* * *

Their lips had gone numb in the first few minutes.

They were pressed together, Shuichi curled into Yuki's lap, both of them clutching the other tightly as they kissed. It was soft at first, tentative and slow, so many memories and so much hurt making electric currents flow from one to the other.

_But it hadn't started that way…_

"Welcome."

Shuichi stepped inside the new apartment quietly, almost afraid his presence would unravel the moment and everything would fall apart. But upon entry, he smiled and relaxed. The sparse décor, the limited artwork, empty cupboards, all reminded him of the past life when they had been a new couple. He relaxed in the familiar environment.

"It looks…" Shuichi laughed. "Like nobody even lives here."

An arm snaked around his waist. "I don't live here. I stay here. There's a significant difference."

Shuichi tensed up, and the man behind him let go. "I'm sorry."

"No." Shuichi turned and hugged him. "You're not doing anything wrong."

"Why did you write it?"

"The note? I don't know."

"Liar. Again, you are lying to me. Your nose is going to stretch a few feet if you don't quit." Yuki said, half-joking.

Shuichi buried his face against Yuki's chest. "I wanted to talk."

"I'm here to listen."

"You read it then, all of it?"

"Wasn't much to read."

Shuichi stared at him, pulling down on the jacket clutched in his small fists. "_Don't leave me again, I need you_." He shook his head. "It's what I wrote, but it doesn't make sense."

"Saying don't leave me again, would imply that we were back together."

Shuichi pushed Yuki away from him and turned to the couch. He perched on its edge, wrapping his fingers into knots of themselves as Yuki stared at him.

"What happened Yuki?"

"I took you for granted. You finally noticed."

"… And I let you leave." Shuichi tossed his hair around from side to side, sniffled, and whispered in a much more cracked voice. "Why didn't you turn back? Why wait until now?"

"I wasn't sure you were ready."

Shuichi snorted. "You make it sound like you actually cared."

Yuki sat next to him, pulled Shuichi close with an arm around his shoulders. He placed his face in Shuichi's hair and whispered against the cloying scent of strawberry shampoo, "I always cared. I just have trouble showing it."

Shuichi turned to him, eyes wide and wet with falling tears. All too soon, all too sudden, their lips were caressing with the tenderest touch, each trying to remember the others taste. They were scared, and timid, but the memories flooded back and it became passionate.

"_Yuki… do you love me?"_

"…_Baka."_

"_This is a real question, do you love me?" _

_Such a long pause of silence, years where he never answered. And then, a hushed, "I've always loved you, and always will." _

Shuichi cried harder, as he pulled his fingers through Yuki's thick blond hair. He was being nudged downward, his back being pushed to the couch. He didn't refuse.

"_FINE! LEAVE! Don't you EVER come back!" _

"_Goodbye Shuichi." _

_The door was shut. He fell to the floor, clutching his stomach and sobbing against his pain. Blood fell from his lips, from the cut on his head. His bruises seared as his body was racked with shuddering and shivering. _

"_Yuki… God, Yuki." _

"_What?"_

_His head snapped up. So… he'd already come back. "Go away. Just leave."_

"_Does it hurt?"_

"_Of course it hurts you sick bastard." _

"_Let me help." _

_His hand closed around Shuichi's forearm, he lifted the boy up, and half carried him to the bathroom. As he cleaned the cuts and bandaged the bruises, Yuki sighed and kissed his lover softly._

"_If I ever do this again don't let me come back. Don't let me hurt you."_

"_Impossible, I'll always let you come back."_

Yuki ran his hands across the pale flesh, none of it was discolored, but he saw it with bruises and blood. Invisible scars that would never heal. He smiled at Shuichi, eyes just barely wet with tears. He kissed him gently, lingering on every movement.

"Am I hurting you?'

"No."

"Did I hurt you?"

"Yes."

"Don't let me come back after this."

"No."

Shuichi pulled him back down. "Is this something we'll regret?"

"I don't know."

"Some judge you are."

**End-6**


	7. Just Like That I Forgive You

**Chapter Seven

* * *

**

"I love you."

Yuki turned in his sleep, mumbling indistinguishable words as he rolled on his stomach. Shuichi smiled and blew a kiss behind him as he walked out the bedroom door, down the hall, and to the outside world with a sigh. It was a numb period now. The calm period of care-free ease before guilt set in. Before he would feel like he'd just broken some sacred vow. Before he'd feel hurt again.

For now, he just wanted to go to work, and forget it ever happened.

At first his friends had harassed him for details. K had told everyone about the encounter with Yuki the night before, and Hiro was immediately on top of his friend wondering what had transpired. Shuichi didn't let on. He kept saying

"Nothing, we just talked." And after a while, began to believe the lie himself.

Hiro didn't believe it though, nor did K and Fujisaki. But the day continued and the interrogation ended. Shuichi sang hard on that sunny afternoon, trying to forget anything had ever happened. Trying to forget the problems he'd have to face, come five o' clock, he'd have nothing to do be go home and think.

But when five o'clock rolled around, he was met at the glass front doors of NG Studios, by none other than the person he wanted to forget. Eiri Yuki.

"Hey."

"Hey." Shuichi hesitantly stopped in front of him. An awkward space of silence passed. He scuffed his shoes against the side-walk.

"So. You left this morning."

"Yeah, I had work today and…" Shuichi shrugged. "I wanted to let you sleep."

"I see." Yuki began to turn away, Shuichi noticed his high-polish Mercury Lexus sitting in the parking spaces. He started towards it.

"Yuki. What happened?"

The tall blond stopped dead, and turned his head over his shoulder. "We fell in love all over again."

Shuichi smiled at the answer. "What happened before? What happened six months ago, when you walked away?"

"I forgot how much you meant to me, and it distorted my thinking."

"You left."

"I did. And I regretted it for six months of my life."

Shuichi walked forward, hugged Yuki around the middle.

"Are you coming home?"

"Where's home?"

"Back where we started."

Yuki smirked and opened the driver-side door. "Lead the way brat."

**End-7**

* * *

**A/N: Stay tuned for the epilogue! **


	8. Epilogue:: Everything You Mean to Me

**Epilogue**

_What would you do to get back,_

_That which makes you who you are?_

They had separated November twelfth.

They had gotten back together April twenty-second.

Six months ten days and fourteen hours. No, they weren't counting. Of course not, it just so happened they had figured it out after getting back together. Shuichi had remembered what day, and what hour of the morning Yuki had left. And Yuki… well… he'd been more for counting the days of his misery. Together, with a basic knowledge, they'd found the sum.

It was six months ten days and fourteen hours they'd never get back.

Shuichi remembered perfectly the weeks before. Yuki had gone to his study with a cold shoulder and emerged from it everyday late at night. He ignored Shuichi's pining, his questions, and his demands. The only time he acknowledged his lover was when they'd gotten into a shouting match that had left Shuichi in tears… and bruises. Yuki had left the house with every intent to get as far away as possible. But the instant he'd reached his car a second thought had hold of him and he was back in the house.

"_Yuki… God, Yuki."_

His pitiful moan. All Yuki had managed to say was 'what' with a gruff voice. And Shuichi had wanted him to leave, had screamed at him to leave. He hadn't, but Yuki made him promise to never let him come back, if he ever hurt him again.

Shuichi, his baka, _had_ let him come back. He always would.

And Shuichi was just glad to have Yuki home.

There was a part of him that wanted to say enough was enough and let them have a real life away from drama. In away, Shuichi berated himself for being so weak. He couldn't stay away from this tall, uncaring man, even when physical and emotional torment was a constant in their lives together. They couldn't help saying hurtful words, or exchanging blows. Shuichi supposed it was just they way they worked, as dysfunctional and odd as it seemed.

In a way they both knew this wasn't good for them. Hell, it might never work out, it might be one of many break up and get back together moments in their relationship.

As of right now, neither cared, they needed each other in some sick fashion. Shuichi clung to Yuki, never wanting to let him slip back into a depression state of mind. Yuki just wanted this little brat to be his. They were the perfectly awful couple.

Weeks, almost months, were spent after the mend to figure everything out. All the metaphorical letters, the notes, the thought processes each had passed back and forth. Shuichi wanted to understand it all, Yuki wanted to know why. First was the envelope, full of letters from Yuki. One for every day they were separated.

The last one Shuichi had understood perfectly, all the rest, were mindless rambling with hints of love in the mix. Yuki took each one, read it aloud, and explained.

_November 12th, _

_Please, please forgive me, but I won't be home again. Maybe someday you'll look up, and barely conscious you'll say to no one, "Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me?"_

_You won't cry for my absence I know. You forgot me long ago. Am I that unimportant? Am I so insignificant? Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me?_

_If I bleed, I'll bleed, knowing you don't care._

_And if I sleep just to dream of you, I'll wake without you there._

_Isn't something missing?_

_Isn't someone missing me?_

_-Yuki._

"I was hurt." Yuki later explained. "I thought I wouldn't come back, that's the first line, you see it? I wasn't expecting you to ever let me come home. And then I was angry. I knew you'd try to forget about me and that you didn't really care that I'd left. You didn't even beg me to stay."

"Yuki I—"

"It's in the past." Yuki had said with a wave of his hand. "What's the next one?"

Each day they spent evenings over dinner and letters. The source of all the pain had to be somewhere, just waiting for them to wipe it away.

Sometimes Yuki wouldn't explain his notes. Often he said that he was drunk that night and he didn't know what he was thinking. One these occasions, Shuichi could almost see the fibs drop from Yuki's mouth to the floor, but he didn't say anything.

Sometimes the notes were only one or two lines.

_December 25th,_

_  
Merry Christmas Shuichi. _

_-Yuki_

It hit the teenage superstar at that moment; they had spent a whole Christmas apart. And Valentines Day.

_February 14th_

_Happy Valentines Day, though you know I don't mean it._

_Have fun with someone new. May they treat you better than I did. _

_-Yuki_

He had wept for the lost memories.

And soon, it came time for Shuichi's envelope to be studied. Tohma had given it to Eiri after their chat in his office. It had been studied by Tohma and Yuki for some time, the President ranting about how out of control (and out of his mind) Shuichi was for wishing no extra help in the music business. Yuki didn't pay much attention to his thoroughly angered brother-in-law. Mostly the platinum blond millionaire was devising plots to have Shuichi jumped for daring to smack the perfect porcelain facial features of his boss.

The first letter in the envelope held a single message. One that Yuki would always remember as the message that almost… almost… made him cry.

_Don't leave me again, I need you_.

There was nothing really to it. In all actuality, it was a very simple plea for help. But the first bit implied they were already back together. Shuichi laughed at it now, wanting to crush that paper into oblivion.

"Doesn't make any sense, does it? In my mind we were always together. Some days you could have walked in the front door and I would have forgotten completely that we weren't speaking, or in contact, or even that I hated you." Shuichi shook his head. "I'm such an idiot."

Yuki laughed at him. "But you're my idiot, and that makes it okay."

Shuichi-goo-puddle. It was all over the floor, hearts popping up from the sludgy mess. "Yuki! You laughed."

It only made him laugh harder.

But there were other messages inside, ones Yuki had neglected to read after that first one. He'd instead made a mad dash to find Shuichi and get him back. But now, with plenty of time on his hands and Shuichi in his arms, they read the long letter of accusations, smeared by tear drops. The song lyrics encased by the envelope, and the drawings Shuichi had randomly created to show his hurt.

He didn't date them. But he remembered them perfectly.

_He's a stranger to some  
And a vision to none  
He can never get enough,  
Get enough of the one _

For a fortune he'd quit  
But it's hard to admit  
How it ends and begins  
On his face is a map of the world  
(A map of the world)  
On his face is a map of the world  
(A map of the world)  
From yesterday, it's coming!  
From yesterday, the fear!  
From yesterday, it calls him  
But he doesn't want to read the message here

On a mountain he sits, not of gold but of shit  
Through the blood he can learn, see the life that it turn  
From council of one  
He'll decide when he's done with the innocent

On his face is a map of the world  
(A map of the world)  
On his face is a map of the world  
(A map of the world)

From yesterday, it's coming!  
From yesterday, the fear!  
From yesterday, it calls him

But he doesn't want to read the message here

On his face is a map of the world

"Don't ask me what I meant. I couldn't tell you, even if I tried." Shuichi smiled at the paper thoughtfully, then shook his head and stuffed it back in the envelope.

Yuki understood it though. But some things between them were better left unsaid.

_**The End**_

A/N: Well, aren't we all pleased? I ask you all, please tell me if you enjoyed. Was the ending rushed? Was it just right?

I wish I could thank every reviewer individually. You have all gotten me through when I really wanted to give up on this story. It was a joy for me to create it so you could read and love it as much as I do. I plan on having a new story up soon, and perhaps one for the _Fruits Basket _area of Keep on the lookout.

And now, for all you nice people who actually pay attention to what I'm writing, an alternate (or is it additional?) ending. Enjoy.

* * *

Tohma Seguchi was pleased.

The production level of Bad Luck had increased ten-fold, and Eiri was often at the studio dropping Shuichi off on time. It made for good chances at polite conversation, and better chances for inviting him in to talk privately. Most of the invites were declined. Some were accepted. Tohma felt that with the newly-knit couple back together, Eiri was taking better care of himself.

He kept out of the affairs of Bad Luck as much as possible, especially when anything came to Shuichi and his personal needs in the band.

And the form of revenge for a week-long bruise on his face, was a continuum of empty vending machines, depriving Shuichi on most days of his beloved strawberry pocky during his afternoon break.

Tohma took great pleasure that first day, watching as Shuichi hugged and cuddled, hit and slapped and begged and cried for the machine to refill itself. From the comforts of the security office with millions of cameras, he chuckled harshly.

A week later, the pocky was back and there was never an need for Shuichi's hysterics. One would be pleased to find it full everyday, ready for the J-Pop singer's yen pieces.

**The Real End**


End file.
